


Town of Wenchester

by tekowrites



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Figging, M/M, Public Humiliation, Spanking, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:30:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tekowrites/pseuds/tekowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>spn_kink prompt "Jared on the receiving end of a humiliating, public, painful punishment. Maybe a judicial sentence, or workplace or domestic discipline? Jensen could be the deliverer of the discipline or a member of the "public"."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Town of Wenchester

**Author's Note:**

> Jared walkes into the Wenchester town, home of saucy wenches, and pisses one off. This ye olde town takes offenses very seriously. 
> 
> No beta, forever.

“For the crime of lifting four chickens, we, in the name of her highness the queen, sentence you to the stocks, effective upon your exit from the court, guards, escort this thief to his rightful place!”

Jared looked at the panel of judges, eyes pleading not to be sent out there, in the freezing cold, where all and sundry would see him, back bowed, palms dangling and head in full view.

It was just complete, utter mistiming on his part. The Wenchester town was famous for it’s wenches, as far as the eye could see were barely dressed women acting as house-maids and help, with the extra helpful hand at night.

Jared cursed as he recalled the saucy wench that kept badgering him for business, and his vehement refusal to purchase the service. He’d let slip out of frustration that he much preferred his wenches in breeches, and she’d called theft and two burly men he hadn’t noticed were skulking around, had accosted him, and dragged him to court.

His pleas and denials were met with gleeful faces and mute ears. He’d heard the jury whispering about finally getting a sodden soul on the darn stocks and about time there was free fun in the town.

He could only gulp.

Manhandled, shackled and pushed around was how Jared ended up arriving at his public prison cell. He tried to plead with his captors, but without luck, one of them held the top wooden panel upwards, while the other one shoved his head down, and barked orders at him to be still, or get something chopped off.

Things only got worse when one of them yanked his breeches down, and situated a bucket between his legs. His ass was exposed, to all whom cared to jump the small fence and look, but thank the lord the wooden panel set for locking legs, was raised enough that it covered him down to his thighs.

Jared’s cheeks burned, small rounded apple shapes on his slightly tanned traveler’s face, that soon turned pale, upon the visual of townspeople moving towards him with purpose, bearing produce of all kind.

The first vegetable to make it, typically, was a tomato, and splat it went all over his face. Jared spat the residue on his lips, but was barely able to shake his head free of the first rotten fruit when it was followed by several others.

One thing was for sure, the villagers were using him as a punching bag, otherwise, why would anyone keep throwing carrots and potatoes at him? He was glad for one thing though, this wasn’t the tropics, and no coconuts were in sight, the darn apples were enough.

After the food throwing festival was done, the name calling and laughter came. Jared’s face burned when the lady of the night, whose affections he’d turned down, started telling tales about the size of his cock, his wilting erection, and gave out suggestions on where he could stick it. Men paraded around, saying they’d take up the ladies, show them a good time, and used Jared’s plight as a measure of their own masculinity.

The men laughed, the women jeered, children spat as they walked beside him, and worse, his bum was cold.

By afternoon, everyone had gotten their jollies out on him, egging his hair, and farting in his face, he resisted the urge to cry out, despite the injustice, his masculinity was already called out into question publicly, he didn’t want to further aid his tormentors in humiliating him.

When darkness came, the public dwindled, the kids were whisked to bed, the workers back to their houses, and the wenches who’d scored on his account, with their parading men, left the field of torture behind them.

While it was a relief to see so many of them leave, Jared couldn’t help but feel anxious at the crowd still standing there, as if waiting for something.

When the town blacksmith arrived, pushing at his cart, Jared knew he was in trouble.

The smith, wearing long leather gloves, a few days’ stubble, and a dangerous look on his face, accented by his green eyes, did nothing to stem the nervous butterflies, now in full panic, in Jared’s stomach.

To his horror, he felt his cock rise to the man’s presence, and an urge to squirm, suddenly overtake him. The crowd shushed upon the man’s arrival, and Jared only fully understood the trouble he was in, when the guards opened the back gate for the blacksmith.

“Master Jensen, we’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

Jensen laughed, and despite the fear crawling through his body, it did something to Jared, his spine tingled and his face grew warm.

“None more eagerly than this little, or should I say big? Stray lamb.” 

There was more laughter at his expense and Jared squeezed his eyes shut.

He jumped and chaffed his neck when an unexpected leather covered hand rested on his hide. He tried to wriggle away, eyes impossibly cast behind him, but all he could see were his own fingers and the wood.

He felt violated, and tried to avoid looking at the hooting crowd, laughing at his expense.

“He’s very firm boys! We’re in for some fireworks tonight!”

The crowd cheered, and Jared mustered all the strength he had left, to bend one leg and try to kick Jensen.

The action was useless, his legs had grown numb from his aching position since the crack of dawn, his legs were too weak to do much. The slight shift though, had alerted Jensen, and he was clearly displeased when he spoke next.

“I see this donkey likes to kick, I dare say, as his master, I need to set him straight!”

The roar of voices shouting helpful tips on how to tame a stray jackass was defeaning, and did nothing to make the sense of unease that washed over him the minute he heard the change of tone in Jensen’s voice, abate.

“A figging is only right, to keep an animal like you with his back straight and legs at attention.”

Jared's eyes bulged out almost out of his head and he began to protest.

“No! Sir please, I’ve done nothing wrong! Spare me!”

A loud smack sounded, and Jared bucked when the leather covered palm made contact with his freezing ass.

“Silence!”

The food, the jeering, the filth and the mud he had endured, but this he wouldn’t, it was a step even further than too far.

“Please! I beseech you! I’m no th-”

Jared almost bit his tongue as another slap hit his backside, jarring his response.

“You, are in need of a firm hand.”

The very next moment, Jared felt the series of slaps land heavily across every chilled, exposed stretch of skin on his body. The burn, the sting, they all hurt, and tears trickled down his face despite his resistance.

The smacks tapered off, and then stopped all together, and Jared tried to drag in a deep breath.

“Now then, this mouth we’ve taken care of, let’s take care of the other one.”

Jared whimpered, but didn’t dare say another word that would land him in further bother.

His breeches dropped further, pooling around his ankles, where all could see them, the cold he felt there did nothing to soothe the fire he felt on his burning bum.

He could smell the aroma of ginger even before the slimy, pointy edge of it poked his asshole. His legs stiffened more, he tried to at the very least, physically stop it from making it’s way inside his body. He heard Jensen laugh from somewhere above him. The stick of ginger was pressed and pressed against his body, but his tight rear refused it entrance. Jared was just about ready to send his thanks to heaven, when he felt something else replace the cold spice.

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was Jensen was utilizing as lubricant, but knowing his profession, Jared could only hazard a guess that it wasn’t exactly human body friendly. It was spread around his hole, and the leather encased hand kept trying to push his rosette open with the slick.

The peeled root was back again, pushing and pushing, Jared closed his eyes and concentrated on blocking it, when the length of it was brutally pushed in.

He screamed.

The root wasn’t that big, but the blunt force that pushed it in had seared his insides.

He gritted his teeth in humiliation at the fact he wasn’t even being treated as human, being figged like a darn horse. His knuckles were white, fists closed so tightly that they were turning cold from the lack of blood circulation, his short nails digging crescents into his palms. Determined, Jared made himself absolutely lax, trying not to aggravate the finger of spice. He knew any friction on the darn thing, and any attempt at pushing it out would help release the juices and leave a trail of blaze in his ass.

That complete surrender appeared to piss off Jensen.

“Look at this stinky mule, fetch me a pail of water, let’s douse him.”

The freezing water did it’s job, Jared spluttered and rose on the tips of his toes, body taught, he hankered down on the piece of ginger and saw sparks beneath his eyelids when the fire began to spread.

He bit his lip to stop from screaming, and tried to get back to relaxing again. The burn continued, but he knew it could get worse, so he forced himself to let his body slump.

“Good boy.”

Somehow, those words coming from Jensen, weren’t re-assuring at all. 

Jared felt the air shift around his bum seconds before a bare palm came cracking down on it. He bucked.

The swats kept coming, even more painful now without the leather making a cushion from the rough fingers.

He openly sobbed, the ginger root repeatedly getting squeezed by his muscles, contraction around it like it was a lifeline, when in truth it was like a taste of hell setting up camp in his bum.

People cheered, whistled and clapped, and Jared couldn’t care less about them now, trying to fight his way through the punishment Jensen was doling out.

To his horror, after an especially powerful smack, his body rocked towards the wooden stock and his fully hard erection bumped it.

Jared tried to rationalize the erection he was sprouting with the painful beating he was taking, and couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought as the fire built up to cover his entire lower half.

At some point, amidst screams and laughs, Jensen had stopped. Jared couldn’t feel a thing anymore, his ass was numb completely, and aside from the distinct sizzle up his spine, nothing else was registering, The root was pulled out, and a finger of ice, that felt suspiciously like an icicle, replaced it.

He barely felt the hands on his cock, stripping it with expert knowledge and speed, before his stream of come was directed towards the bucket, to an explosion of cheers.


End file.
